“We understand so much. But the sky behind those lights- mostly void, partially stars- That sky reminds us we don’t understand more.” ~Cecil Baldwin, Welcome To Night Vale.

The sky was black. The darkest black imaginable. I couldn’t help but wonder if anything was looking back at me as I stared into space. One by one, the stars started blinking into existence.I could start to make out the pictures in the sky. The big dipper, Orion, Pieces, they were all there. I looked back down at my feet, and kept walking along the dirt path that ran along the edge of the sand wastes. The Sheriff’s Secret Police were bound to be waiting out in the sand, as they always are. I just didn’t want to run into one of them, because they’d return me to my house, and I’d be given a Library Card, and the thought of that terrified me. I plugged my earbuds into my handheld radio and tuned into my favorite station. Cecil’s voice was soft and sweet, as he reported today’s news. I wished I could be a radio host, but no, I was just a scientist from out of town.
I came to Night Vale to study the strange phenomenon that seems to always be centered around the strange desert community. The town motto was right. The sun was hot, the moon was beautiful, and yes, mysterious lights did pass over the town at night. I was fascinated by this place. This really was the most scientifically interesting community in the U.S.. I loved it here. I’ve been in Night Vale for about a year, studying the town and its residents. I’d taken a particular interest in a certain radio show host. It also seemed he’d taken an interest in me.
“Carlos,the scientist. Perfect of stature and bearing, perfect of tone and taut, and time having fixed what the barbarous barber Telly so treacherously snipped away, perfect of hair. One year. One year later. Listeners, listeners! One single year since two major events in our town's history. First, the opening of our lovely state-of-the-art dog park, which is forbidden, and which I will not mention again. Second, and most important, it is one year since the arrival in Night Vale of our most beloved and singular citizen. He came to us to investigate our town, because, he said, it was scientifically extraordinary, and downright bizarre. We had no idea what he was talking about, but with his golden voice ringing out from the bell of his mouth, who among us could argue with the content of such perfect speech?”
Oh, Cecil, you’re embarrassing me. I couldn’t believe that he’d say that over the air. I enjoyed listening to Cecil’s voice. He often talked about me on the show, and I listened with a blush on my cheeks. He was so dreamy, his voice took me away to some other world.
The last thing I’d done in Night Vale was at the Desert Flower  Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex. There was reports of a tiny world under the pin retrieval area on lane five. I went to investigate the city, and found it was just a tiny city about ten feet below the lane. There was nothing to fear. Cecil was reporting about it now.
“ I have just received word that Carlos returned from the entrance to the city, gesturing to everyone around and asking them to follow him. He led them into the pin retrieval area, which is not an easy place for a crowd, so there was a lot of crouching and saying 'Excuse me. Excuse me!' But soon enough, they were all arrayed on the cliff top, overlooking that dreaded subterranean metropolis. Teddy Williams, and his militia, and the folks that had come for Jeremy's birthday, and Jeremy himself, still holding his plastic cup of beer and leaning morosely against the wall, pointedly refusing to look where everyone else was.
This was the first time most of them had seen the city. It seemed so distant below them, its strange spires small and far away. The windows in the buildings alight with the fire of hostile life were tiny dots from where they stood. They could hear the footsteps of the approaching army. The chanting! Many of them quaked with fear, but not Carlos. My brave Carlos stepped out into the pit, climbing down the slope. At first, onlookers were horrified at his lunatic descent. Then, they were confused, as he got to the city much faster than they expected. And then, there was panic, as their eyes told them a story they could not understand, let alone believe.
'Behold, said Carlos, standing in the center of the underground city, 'this is not an enormous city miles below the earth. It is a very small city about ten feet below the earth, populated by tiny people, who have had to spend a year slowly climbing the ten feet to our world!'
He gestured at the spires, which came up approximately to his knees.
We have nothing to fear.'
Well. If Carlos says it, I will happily repeat it. We have nothing to fear, and never did.”
  Well I was right, the city was small and posed no threat. We had nothing to fear. I was starting to feel watched as I continued my midnight walk. I turned around to go back home. Cecil, still in his booth, continued talking, as he always did. I thought more about what had happened at the bowling alley earlier. As I was standing there in the city, the little people attacked me. I thought was dying, and so did everyone else. Cecil took it hard.
“A truly fearful thing has happened, listeners. Carlos, standing triumphantly in the toy-scaled city, was attacked by tiny people using projectiles and explosives. He fell back to the side of the small hole in the pin retrieval area of lane five. Blood...welled through his shirt...and here I am, stuck in my booth, useless, only able to narrate and not to help. (almost crying) He staggered, fell to his knees...so much blood. He collapsed completely.
Curse this town, that saw Carlos die. Curse me. Curse it all.
Let us take a moment to...let us...take this moment...Ladies and gentlemen, let us mourn the passing...
can't.
I can't.”
Poor Cecil. He went into a pre-recorded message asking people to come help with the house that doesn’t exist. It seems like it exists, like it's just right there when you look at it, and it's between two other identical houses, so it would make more sense for it to be there than not. But, it does not exist. I proved it with science.
Cecil came back on air when I looked up to the ‘moon’. He was happier now.
“Ladies, gentlemen, how wonderful. Carlos is not dead at all! It seems that the Apache Tracker ran in, crouching awkwardly through the pin retrieval area and shouting 'Nakonetz, moyo vremya prishlo!'. He leapt into the pit, trailing his offensive feather headdress, and heaved Carlos up in a mighty bear hug, carrying him out of the pit while being attacked viciously by the miniature citizens of the miniature city! Even Jeremy, upset still about his ruined birthday party, couldn't help but cheer as the formerly false, now real, Native American laid Carlos safely on the linoleum floor. Teddy Williams, who of course is also a licensed doctor, as all bowling alley owners are required to be, checked his wounds and indicated through a series of rhythmic hoots that Carlos will be, in fact, okay! He's okay! Never before in my career as a broadcaster have I gone through such a roller coaster of emotion and fear. To think that I had lost that most precious thing to me, the presence of Carlos in my life, and then to have it brought back, so that I could appreciate it all the more. Oh, Carlos.  All the words I would never have said to you. And the news that the city is only a miniature city only ten feet down, well, that was startling as well. But, it appears that all is well. And so I say to you, with a heart singing its way from heavy to light, good night, Night Vale, good...
Oh no!  I have just been handed a note. Oh. This is not good news. Ladies and gentlemen, in his valiant rescue of our beloved Carlos, the Apache Tracker was mortally wounded. He is bleeding profusely and it is getting all over his fake feather headdress, and he says that even his ancient Indian magics will not help him, which of course they won't, because they're not real. Listeners, how could I have been so wrong about this man? A racist embarrassment to our town? Maybe. A real jerk? Yes. But he also was a man with Night Vale's best interests at heart, who worked closely with the angels and the mysterious Man in the Tan Jacket to protect us from the miniature city under the bowling alley. And he, at the cost of his own life, saved Carlos. Carlos breathes and soon the Apache Tracker will not.”
I did feel bad for the Apache Tracker, but thankful that he had saved me. I arrived at home. I suddenly got the urge to see Cecil. I had to. Something was calling to me to text him and tell him to meet me. I sent him a message.
“Good night, brave Tracker. Good night. I thought you were one thing and you were another. It is likely I will learn nothing from this. And oh! A message on my phone! Carlos wants to see me. He says to meet him at the Arby's parking lot. Um. I am not sure what scientific exploration now needs the services of my radio audience, but I will dutifully go, dutifully meet him, and as I go, let us all go. Go now...to the weather.”
The music played and I left to go to Arby’s. The Lights were out and watching me drive. I arrived and parked in the Arby’s parking lot. I got out and sat on my trunk. Cecil arrived soon after.
“What is it? What danger are we in? What mystery needs to be explored?” He asked.
“Nothing, after everything that happened I wanted to see you.” I told him.
“Oh?” He looked confused and excited.
“I used to think it was setting at the wrong time,” I said, “but then I realized that time doesn't work in Night Vale, and that none of the clocks are real. Sometimes things seem so strange, or malevolent, and then you find that, underneath, it was something else altogether, something pure, and innocent.”
“I know what you mean.” He said.
Cecil and I sat on the trunk of that car, my car, looking together at the lights up in the sky above the Arby's. They were beautiful in the hushed twilight, shimmering in a night sky already coming alive with bits of the universe. One year later. One year since I arrived. I put my hand on his knee and said nothing, and he knew what I meant. He felt the same. He leaned his head on my shoulder.
“We understand the lights. We understand the lights above the Arby's. We understand so much. But the sky behind those lights - mostly void, partially stars? That sky reminds us we don't understand even more.
“Good night, Night Vale, good night.”